


Casual

by podgle



Category: Control (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Useless Gays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:35:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24202948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/podgle/pseuds/podgle
Summary: There are conversations, and then there are *conversations*. This is the latter.
Relationships: Jesse Faden/Emily Pope
Comments: 28
Kudos: 170





	Casual

**Author's Note:**

> Fluffy piece about Jesse and Emily's burgeoning friendship but almost something more relationship (if they weren't such useless gays). 
> 
> I really enjoy their in-game banter, and sincerely hope we get to see more of Emily in the AWE DLC, especially if she gets those 30 hours of field training.

Jesse hasn't been seen for a few days. This wasn't unusual. The Oldest House is large, inconceivably large, and enclaves of the Hiss were still being found, often when unsuspecting staff members were searching for a shifted photocopier. 

What was unusual, at least to Emily, was that no Rangers were currently deployed on active missions, and Arish hadn't received any back up requests from the Director in several weeks. Casual enquiries revealed that no-one had spoken with Jesse for at least three days. 

Not that Emily was tracking her friend's every movement, of course. She's just noticed that their daily catch up hadn't happened for a bit. It wasn't a big thing, as such. Sometimes she took coffee down to Jesse's office and they'd go over things like the number of HRAs in production or the results of the latest Black Rock tests. Sometimes, when Emily had her head buried in analysis, Jesse would run up to the top of Central Executive, launch a sandwich at Emily and shout 'eat your damn lunch, Pope!', chuckling to herself as Emily dodged a pastrami on rye that was travelling a little too fast to be caught without getting mustard all over her shirt. She'd learned that one the hard way. 

Emily's favourite catch up was the late night chats, when she's stayed far too late, everyone has gone home, and Jesse appears in the doorway with a casual 'whatcha doin'?'. Emily clears a pile of files off a nearby chair, gestures to it in a sort of Sit There Til I Finish This Thought way, and Jesse proceeds to ask questions about anything and everything she can see in the vicinity, until Emily relents and pays attention. The Head of Research would throw a balled up piece of paper at the Director of the FBC, and they'd talk until Jesse insisted on walking Emily to the subway station so she could catch the last train. 

Emily was reasonably confident that Jesse was still sleeping in the Director's Office, on a couch that she had 'acquired' from somewhere in Containment. She'd thought about offering Jesse room at her apartment, but didn't know how to make the offer sound, well, casual. She wasn't great at casual. She hadn't had many friends to practice it with. She wasn't about to scare away the one friend she had. 

So here she was, casually looking for the Director, ostensibly to update her on whatever piece of paper Emily had snatched off her desk and put on her clipboard, just in case anyone asked her what she was doing. No-one would, but the title of Head of Research and the lack of accountability that came with it hadn't quite settled comfortably on Emily's shoulders. Jesse insisted it would happen with time, but Emily couldn't help being envious of the ease in which Jesse just _became_ Director. She wore it as comfortably as that improbably well-fitted leather jacket. 

Emily tugs at at the front of her uniform shirt and makes her way down the wide Central Research staircase to head down to Maintenance. She could have used the light switch in her office, but the last time she crossed through the Oceanview Motel it was decked out in plush red velvet and Emily could have sworn she heard Barry White playing in one of the rooms. The place was odd, even by FBC standards. 

It is easy to get lost in Maintenance. She's only been down here a few times for field training, which had been on hold ever since Lead Trainer Russell had been turned into Hiss and Jesse had launched him into the furnace. Perhaps Jesse could get her up to speed? It'd be good to get up close and personal with the Hiss. 

The janitor's office is empty. Ahti is still on holiday, somewhere, sometime. Emily is heading towards Ventilation when she hears it: gentle humming. She follows the sound, and rounds a corner to see Jesse in grey coveralls, yellow headphones on, focused on mopping the floor. 

Emily indulges herself for a moment, leaning against the wall and listening to Jesse hum, occasionally switching to singing when she knows the words. She wonders if Jesse is a good singer. Before she crosses a line into totally creepy, she straightens and gently calls out. They'd learned, also via the hard way, that surprising Jesse would lead to low flying objects. She'd once accidentally sent a lamp across the room, when Emily had caught her napping at her desk and thought it would be funny to wake her up. The lamp remained un-replaced to this day. 

“Jesse?” 

The Director flinches, causing a nearby trash can to levitate for a moment. She blinks a few times, looking around and slipping into an easy smile when she sees her Head of Research. 

“Hey.” 

Emily approaches, reassured that the trash can is safely on the floor. “No-one's thrown lunch at me in a few days, I was starting to waste away.” 

Jesse laughs, takes off her headphones, and pops the mop back into its bucket. She thrusts her hands into her pockets. 

Quiet Jesse, Emily observes, is unusual. She tries again. “I never saw Trench doing this. Have they upgraded the job description?” 

Another laugh. “Well, Ahti's not here. Someone has to talk to the plants and keep the place clean.” 

Emily had walked in on Jesse talking to the spider plant on her desk at least twice. “No-one better qualified.” 

Jesse waves a hand at Emily's clipboard. “You got something for me?” 

“Oh, er, no,” she says, hiding the clipboard behind her back. “Just came to make sure you weren't being held hostage by the Hiss.” 

Jesse considers this for a moment. “What do you think they'd demand as a ransom?” 

“We want a million dollars and some better words for our chant,” Emily replies in her best Hiss incantation impression. “Like maybe some Madonna or Coldplay or something.” 

“I always had them down as ABBA fans,” Jesse grins. “I'll take a million dollars, though. That's a pretty good valuation.” 

Emily bites back a comment about being worth every cent. “You've been keeping us clean for a few days.” She hesitates. _Casual_. “Everything okay? Not that you're beholden to me and my lunch schedule, or anything. Obviously. You're the Director. You can do whatever you want. Anyway, I just...” She trails off. _So casual_. 

“I like that you check up on me,” Jesse says, rubbing her shoulder. 

“Oh, well. You know. All part of the service.” 

Jesse cocks her head. 

“The...er...friend service?” _C.A.S.U.A.L._

“It's a good service,” Jesse replies. Then slumps. Just slightly. Just enough for a friend to notice. 

“So...is everything okay?” 

The woman who can toss forklift trucks without effort, who dives into danger without a second thought, who casually walks Emily to the subway at 2am, looks uncertain. Nervous. Unsure. 

Emily finds a nearby bucket, turns it upside down, and sits on it. “Tell me.” 

Jesse shrugs. Sighs. Tries to start a sentence, then shakes her head. Tries again. Rubs her shoulder. “You ever want to be invisible?” 

Emily knows that there's an Object of Power, a telescope, stored in the Panopticon that renders users invisible to the naked eye. This is not that kind of invisible. She closes her eyes against the memory of her school days. “Sometimes.” She takes a deep breath. “When I was young, I got picked on. A lot. Being smart and being into 'weird shit',” she does air quotes with her hands, “singled me out. I wished that they'd all leave me alone a lot. Then when they did, and they ignored me, well...” 

“That was shitty too.” 

“Yeah.” Emily picks at the edge of a nail. She really needs to stop biting them. “I have a complicated relationship with invisible,” she smiles, trying to lighten things up a bit, conscious that she's misread this whole thing and it actually was a conversation about the fun kind of invisible. 

Jesse slides down the wall, settling into a cross-legged position on the floor. She looks young, and still uncertain. “Me too. Invisible was good, usually. I spent so long trying not to be seen by the FBC, by people. Couldn't risk someone being an undercover agent, or recognising me, you know?” Emily nods, and Jesse continues. “Didn't really make many friends after Ordinary.” 

Emily's read the reports on the Ordinary AWE. Stood in the P7 office and stared at the pinboards full of photos and tracking information. Thought about how the FBC obsessively watched a traumatised young woman. She'd done it to understand Darling's work. Not for anything else. Still, the photo of Jesse reaching down to pet a stray dog, an image that had stayed with Emily as emblematic of the Director's kindness and desire to help, well, that had a new, sadder meaning now. 

She realises she's been quiet for too long. Jesse thankfully takes it as space to talk rather than baffled silence, or worse, disinterest. “Now people care who I am. They seek me out for my help. It's...overwhelming. My portrait's on the wall, which is just insane. The last photo I had on a wall was a mugshot,” she says, ruefully. 

“What happened?” 

“Shoplifted some groceries. I was...between jobs. And states. Spent my last five bucks on, well, it doesn't matter. Got caught with a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter down my pants.” She looks up, uncertainly. Emily gestures in what she hopes is a non-judgemental, go-ahead kind of way. “And that's why I can never go back to Idaho,” she says with a grin, pointing finger guns at Emily. 

“Invisible would have been very useful right then.” 

“You're telling me.” 

Emily scratches one side of her nose. “I got the police called on me once.” 

Jesse looks genuinely surprised. “My workflow loving, procedure abiding Head of Research? Really?” 

“I socked Bethany Michaels in the face after she'd been a relentless bitch to me for about a month.” Jesse's proud smile is infectious and Emily finds herself grinning. “Of course her parents were rich and awful and wanted me arrested and expelled. Private school assholes,” she adds, half to herself. “Almost cost me my career here before it even began. Darling called me up about my 'police record' saying that he couldn't give me the job without knowing the details. He just about wet himself laughing when I told him.” 

“Well, I'm glad your criminal past didn't hold you back.” 

“If Bethany Michaels had lost me this job, I'd have done more than punch her in her stupid face.” 

“I like you feisty,” Jesse says, a touch of colour in her cheeks. Emily inspects her nails again, because she knows that she's a violent shade of fuchsia right now. “If you want, we could bust out an Object of Power and go fuck with Bethany for an afternoon.” 

“It's a date,” Emily replies before she can censor herself. _C.A.S.U.A.L._ She sighs. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I'm glad you're not invisible. You're good at it. It suits you.” 

Jesse's gaze turns to her boots. “It's a lot. People are expecting me to know things. I thought I knew what I was doing with Dylan, and he's in a coma. The Board don't seem pleased with me, even though I've managed to get the Hiss out. The canteen keep asking me about this vegan menu they want to put on. What the hell do I know about sweet potato burgers? If I can't even decide the basics like what everyone eats, how am I supposed to know about interdimensional god knows what?” She throws her hands up in the air and heaves a sigh. 

“I can help,” Emily offers, gently. “Firstly, we can hire a Head of Catering because I don't remember Trench writing the week's menu. I'm not actually sure Trench ate anything at all, come to think of it. Just drank.” Jesse forces a small smile. “Secondly, whilst I don't know the difference between a sweet potato and a yam, I do know some things about interdimensional god knows what, and the things that I don't know, we can work on together. We're a pretty good team, I think you'll find.” 

“Can't deny that.” 

“Good. I'll do the research, you'll do the forklift throwing, and we'll figure everything else out along the way.” Emily, feeling bold, moves to the floor next to Jesse. Her mind flits back to the stray dog picture. “You're not on your own, not any more.” 

“Thanks, Emily.” 

“Any time.” 

They sit in silence for a while. Jesse leans her head against Emily's shoulder, who is sure that this probably isn't casual any more. And she's not the one that made it not-casual. It all feels very comfortable and nice and she can hear her heartbeat in her ears. She doesn't want to break the spell, but there's something she needs to say. 

“Your secret is safe with me, by the way,” she says, pointing at the mop. “Any time you want to hide for a while. I can join you sometimes, if you want?” 

“That would be nice,” Jesse says, and Emily can hear the smile in her voice. 

Reluctantly, Emily checks her watch. “It's late.” Jesse lifts her head, and Emily feels her absence immediately. Deciding that action is, well, something and is probably better than overanalysing what just happened, she stands and offers a hand to Jesse, who takes it and heaves herself to her feet. 

“Walk you to the station?” 

“Come with me. My couch is more comfortable than the one in your office.” 

Jesse blushes, really blushes, and Emily decides it's one of the best things she's ever seen. “No judgement. Just...” 

The Director nods, shy again. “Okay. I just need to put this stuff away. See you upstairs in fifteen?” 

“Perfect.” Emily's not sure what she's commenting on, exactly, but she's very certain that casual isn't for her.


End file.
